


Fallout

by sinkingsidewalks



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 4x15 Tag, 4x15 spoilers, F/M, post-4x15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 09:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10089701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinkingsidewalks/pseuds/sinkingsidewalks
Summary: '“Jemma,” he whispers, almost silent, but even in the bustling lab she can hear him perfectly. And it is perfect, his voice. Not the robot’s which was clinically his or the framework’s version which was just all wrong. This is his voice.'Fitzsimmons reunion after the Framework.





	

She doesn’t see him until they’re back on the base. Until she’s in the lab, looking over May’s medical reports but mostly just staring at her unconscious body. Until a hand lays over her arm, just above her elbow, and oh how she wants to cry. 

Oh, how afraid she is to turn around. 

“Jemma,” he whispers, almost silent, but even in the bustling lab she can hear him perfectly. And it is perfect, _his_ voice. Not the robot’s which was clinically his or the framework’s version which was just _all wrong_. This is his voice.

She turns, throwing her arms around his neck, clinging with as much force as she can muster in her beaten body.

He holds her tight. Pressing every inch of his body into hers, it cements his realness, her assurance that this is him, this is the real Fitz. A sob bubbles in her throat which she doesn’t let out, can’t let out, not here, not when once she starts she won’t be able to stop. She can feel his heartbeat against her own. 

She was sure, as sure as she could be, that the robot him wasn’t him, that she wasn’t actually killing _him_. But, even though she saw the mechanics under its skin, a part of her still believed it, still believed that she had actually killed him. It’s washed away now. 

“She’s stable Jemma, come on.” He tries to shift away but that only makes her cling tighter, her fingers digging into the starched cotton of his shirt. He smells like sweat and a bit of engine grease, but mostly like Fitz.

“Jemma,” he whispers again, one of his hands moving to float over her cheekbone. It makes her heart stutter, makes her stomach flip and warmth pool under her collar bones. 

“I love you.” The words are not enough but they’re the only thing she’s got. Her voice sounds foreign in her ears, it stutters and breaks through her ragged breathing. His hand strokes from her cheek backwards, around her ear, into her hair, ghosting down the side of her neck. It’s warm and she’s been frozen for days. 

“I love you too.” He always sounds more Scottish when he’s emotional, it’s one of the things the robot got right. “Now come on, let’s go to our room.”

She’s had her eyes squeezed so tightly shut that she almost forgot they were still in the lab. Against her instincts, she shifts back a little. He reaches down and takes her hand. 

“Alright?”

Not trusting her voice, all she can do is nod. 

She’s crying by the time they reach the hallway, tears blurring her vision badly enough that he has to guide her through the maze of the base as her breathing hiccups in her throat. The cracks in her chest are still deadly, and if anything, his return has carved out new ones that make her more likely to shatter.

Relief makes her not even care that the other agents are seeing her like this, the obvious mess that she must be, she can’t care about anything other than that he’s come back to her. 

The base is slightly shattered, from the many explosions it withstood, but the bunks are untouched, if a bit smoky. He closes the door behind them and she falls into his arms again. 

Her face presses into his shoulder, hot tears slipping into the fabric of his shirt. “I thought I lost you.”

His hands slide up her back, tracing each knot of her spine. 

“I thought I _killed_ you.”

“Shh, Jemma, you didn’t.” 

Which statement he’s answering she doesn’t know, can only feel the sobs pressing up her throat and drowning her. His hand makes another circuit of her back. 

“You saved me, you always save me.”

She gulps in a breath, the tears not gone but faded now, less pressing in her consciousness. Their loss makes her realize her desperation. She kisses him harder, her hands retreating from around his neck to pull at his shirt. Her teeth clack against his and her blood rushes under her skin. She needs him to be closer, to know that he’s alive and he’s here and he won’t be going anywhere else. 

He meets her kisses, pulls her tighter against him, his hands splayed over her lower back. 

“Jemma,” he gasps against the skin of her cheek as he starts pressing his open mouth down the line of her throat. 

Her whole body is filled with heat, with warmth, his touch sets fire to her skin. She starts on the buttons at the top of his shirt, her shaking fingers making it near impossible to thread each back through its hole. Frustration mounts under her skin along with the desire. 

Until she goes to pull a breath in and finds that the air doesn’t satisfy her lungs, like it’s devoid of oxygen, like it’s just nitrogen and argon and carbon dioxide, nothing there to sink into her blood. 

Fitz reads the panic on her face, brings his hands to steady her shoulders. 

“Jemma, Jemma, Jemma, just breathe.” His lips flutter over hers, he takes both of her hands in his own. “Just breathe.”

She tries, but can’t really, finds her lungs emptying as fast as she can fill them and filling as fast as she can empty them. It’s obvious that she’s starting to hyperventilate, she knows that she has to slow her breathing down or else she’ll pass out, but she can’t. A week’s worth of panic hits her all at once. 

He walks them backwards, gently pushing her until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed and she sits. Following her down, he kneels beside the bed. 

“It’s alright, Jemma. I’m right here.” He brings their hands up to her cheeks, leaves her chilled fingers trapped between her skin and his while he strokes his thumbs under her eyes, ridding the quiet tears that seem to be still slipping out. 

“I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m right here.”

A breath shudders through her lungs and she drops her forehead down to press into his. “Promise?”

“Yeah, Jems.” He presses his lips to hers, the lightest feathering of contact, and it sends her heart racing. “I promise.”

She pulls him back in by his cheeks even though he moved barely an inch away. Emotions cloud in her chest and they’re hard to breathe around. She kisses him anyways. 

He pulls her forward, hands bracketing around her thighs to bring her off the bed until she’s kneeling over his lap, their chests pressed together. One of her hands gets trapped between them, pressed over the beating of his heart while the other curls around the back of his head. 

“Is this okay for your leg?” the words cascade over her cheek along with his breath. She’d forgotten about the wound, the sensation of that pain was lost in the wash of all the others. 

She nods. “I’m fine.” Even though they’re sitting on the ground, even though it won’t be comfortable for more than a minute, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s here, that they’re together again. 

She moves back, just barely, only enough to be able to see into his eyes, to see that they’re his eyes. He stares back at her curiously, an expression she is ever so familiar with. It’s the first thing she ever saw from him, deep blue eyes peering at her from across a lab. She sweeps her thumb across his cheek, a soft smile on her lips as she presses them into his.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about how this reunion will play out since I first watched the episode. It took me a while to figure this out and I'm still not entirely sure if I'm happy with the way this plays out but I figured I'd post it anyways so let me know what you think. As always I'm around on tumblr to talk @sinkingsidewalks


End file.
